BREAKAWAY

Chapter Fifteen - Edited

*WARNING: SMALL MENTION OF EATING DISORDERS, NOT GRAPHIC OR DESCRIPTIVE, NOT A DIAGNOSIS.*

Sang's POV:

By the time we got to the rink on Monday I was swaying on my feet, light headed and starving.

This wasn't the first time food had been withheld from me, not by a long shot, but this was the first time that it had been before a training session.

My head pounded as I skated the warm-up laps, and listened to Mr Blackbourne's directions.

I tried to ignore my mother's gaze, it was unexpected but Mr Blackbourne hadn't been able to convince her out of staying for this session. I think she wanted to make sure that I didn't eat anything.

At this point, I was so hungry I would eat a peanut, and not even care about the consequences.

The boys seemed to know that something was wrong, but I played it off as just feeling a little under the weather. I don't think I fooled Dr Green, because he watched me with narrow eyes as I practiced passing with Kota and North.

Mr Blackbourne also kept a close eye on me, and the boys were constantly doing an eye speak thing, where they seemed to be having entire conversations non-verbally.

One of them was near me at all times, and I didn't have the heart to push them away, even though my mother would punish me worse later.

Suddenly, I felt weird, and noises became muted. Kota passed my the puck but I couldn't move to catch it, I just dropped my stick as I swayed.

Black dots invaded my vision and I locked eyes with Dr Green before I heard a shout and I blacked out, my body slamming into the ice when I fell.

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Dr Green's POV:

I watched her small body hit the ground as North was seconds too late to catch her.

I pushed off from the boards and ran over to her, my shoes skidding on the slippery ice and I felt Owen following closely behind me.

I sank to my knees next to her, barely hearing Owen telling the boys to get off the ice before he bent down opposite me.

"Sang? Sang, sweetheart, wake up. Can you hear me?" I asked. She didn't move.

"Squeeze my hand if you can hear me." No movement. Shit.

I felt her pulse. It was too slow, and slightly thready, but definitely there.

She was breathing, so my hands gently patted her down, but thankfully there were no broken bones.

A look at the pallor of her skin, coupled with her other symptoms suggested a lack of food. She'd been tired and sluggish all evening, but I still watched to check her over in the medical room, ideally even take her to the hospital.

"Med room." I said to Owen, who picked her up as I rushed ahead, nearly sprinting down the corridor as I prepared an IV.

Owen came in shortly after, laying the fragile girl down on the bed, and her mother came in after him.

"Call the hospital." I told him, and his eyes widened just a fraction before he pulled his phone out of his pocket, schooling his expression again.

"No hospital. I won't let her go to the hospital."

Ah. This could be a problem. I continued getting Pookie comfortable and hooking her up to the IV for hydration and nutrients as I listened in to the conversation between Owen and Ms Sorenson.